his business, an' that I didn't think the house or place was safe while
he was in it--for it's I that has the mortal hatred of a liar."

"What liquor have you got in the house?"

"No--if there's one thing on airth that I hate worse than another, it's
a man that shuffles--that won't tell the truth, or give you a straight
answer. We have plenty o' liquor in the house--more than you'll use, at
any rate."

"But what descriptions? How many kinds? for instance--"

"Kinds enough, for that matther--all sorts and sizes of liquor."

"Have you any wine?"

"Wine! Well, now, let me speak to you as a friend; sure, 't is n't wine
you'd be thinking of?"

"But, if I pay for it?"

"Pay for it--ay, and break yourself--go beyant your manes, as I
said. No, no--I'll give you no wine--it would be only aidin' you in
extravagance, an' I wouldn't have the sin of it to answer for. We have
all enough, and too much to answer for, God knows."

The last observation was made _sotto voce_, and with the serious manner
of a man who uttered it under a deep sense of religious truth.

"Well," replied the stranger, "since you won't allow me wine, have you